


Only If You Chase Me

by The_Queen_Of_OTPs



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drunk Crowley, First Kisses, Fluffy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 11:22:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Queen_Of_OTPs/pseuds/The_Queen_Of_OTPs
Summary: Crowley has probably just made the biggest mistake he could ever think of. Bolting from the bookshop quickly, he ends up in his "safe place" drinking himself stupid. Thankfully, Aziraphale finds him and he finally makes the confession that has been buried deep down for the past six thousand years. God it feels good to have it out in the open.





	Only If You Chase Me

Crowley sat at the bar in one of his many favourite bars in Soho, leaning back in his chair and downing his sixth shot of whisky in the last 30 minutes, a look of grimace flashing across his face when the burning sensation from the whisky hit his throat.

He always came to this bar to escape. While many would say it was a foolish place to come, Crowley would have to disagree. This bar was his “safe place” as he often put it, where he would come to escape the pain of his existence and clear his head, that was currently spinning, making him feel dizzy.

It just sort of happened, the moment of vulnerability, and a sudden surge of confidence that made him lunge towards Aziraphale and kiss his soft plump pink lips.

They had been in the bookshop on a somewhat chilly afternoon, it had been raining in Soho most of the day. They had been sprawled across the cream coloured sofa, Crowley absentmindedly staring at the ceiling with a few too many wines under his belt, while Aziraphale flicked through a catalogue while writing onto an order form what books he needed supplies of for the month.

Aziraphale had started the whole ordeal, placing his papers onto the table as he ruffled Crowley’s hair, running long fingers through it softly. Aziraphale did that often, but today it had affect on Crowley more than usual. Crowley sighed lovingly (shit, he hadn’t meant to do that), and eased himself closer to Aziraphale’s body (he hadn’t meant to do that either). The closeness between them and the tenderness coming from Aziraphale almost made him burn up. He tried so hard to ignore the unbearable feelings he had for Aziraphale; it’s only been 6000 years since he first developed a crush on the angelic being.

Aziraphale beamed, as the demon found himself easing closer to the angel with every passing second. He wasn’t meant to be giving in to his feelings like this, but he couldn’t help it, Aziraphale meant everything to him, but he was afraid. Afraid, that if he admitted his true feelings towards Zira, that he would lose his best friend, his partner in crime, his everything. It would have just been easier for him to pretend his feelings weren’t real, rather than not complicate things with Aziraphale or anything in his life for that matter.

Aziraphale had him in a trance, of such, mostly love and comfortableness. But, before Crowley knew what he was doing, he was turning his head towards Aziraphale. The angel’s fingers dropped out of his red curls suddenly as Crowley crashed their lips together. Their lips only connected for a few seconds, but Crowley quickly realized what he had just done, dashing up from Aziraphale’s lap and the sofa, down the stairs without a second look, and finally slamming the bookshop door behind him. Getting in his car, he drove (foolish decision on his part) until he couldn’t see straight, but it wasn’t long before he worked out where he was.

He knew he had made a mistake, Aziraphale was probably sitting in his armchair back at the bookshop disgusted about the whole situation. Aziraphale will never speak to him again, disown him, and he’d lose everything he’s worked towards. He didn’t mean to end up at the pub, but somehow that’s just where he ended up.

He felt a final sense of calmness pass over his facial features as he downed his now eighth shot on top of the numerous glasses of wine he had already consumed at the bookshop, but he was content, the alcohol finally numbing the amount of pain and regret he felt in every muscle in his body.

He had no idea how long he was sat there, the alcohol kept coming, as he didn’t seem to appear drunk and out of order to anyone, but inside he felt happy and tiddly, and in no way ready to drain his body of the copious alcohol just yet. He was sure it was getting close to closing time, as customers were finishing their drinks and made their way towards the door.

“Last drinks, lad. We are closing shortly.” The bartender reminded him gently.

Crowley nodded, reaching for the nearly empty scotch bottle that was on the bar, and eagerly poured himself another, downing it quickly. “Thanks! Good evening to you.” Crowley said as best he could, pretty sure he was surprising everyone around him that he didn’t even appear to be the slightest bit drunk, but boy did he feel wasted.

Getting up from the bar stool, he pulled his leather jacket back on. Just as he was getting ready to turn towards the door, he heard something. “Finally, I’ve found you. Crowley, dearest. I’ve been looking for you for hours.” Aziraphale eased towards him, ready to catch him if he stumbled.

Crowley groaned, trying to push past the angel, wanting to escape from the pub as quickly as he could. He made his way outside, Aziraphale followed behind him. He tried to rush to his car, but Aziraphale caught him by his wrist, turning the demon back towards him.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale said.

“Just save it, angel. I’m sorry okay. I would get it if you never want to talk to me again.” Crowley said softly, stumbling as the alcohol made him fuzzy around the edges and the slightest bit dizzy.

Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder and titled his head sideways in utter confusion. “What are you talking about, dear boy? Why wouldn’t I want to speak to you again?”

Crowley scoffed. “Because I kissed you and I shouldn’t have. Because I am so in love with you, and I can’t hide it anymore. I don’t want any trouble, I’ll go angel” Crowley pulled away from Aziraphale’s grip desperately.

“Crowley stop!” Aziraphale demanded before he moved forward, closing the gap between them, slightly pushing him up against the wall and placing his lips onto Crowley’s. The kiss was very soft, with a small touch of irritation Aziraphale held when Crowley bolted but still very pleasurable. When they finally broke apart, they moved their heads so their eyes could meet.

Aziraphale chuckled deeply, the smile lingering on his lips. “You’re a silly sod sometimes, you know that? Been wanting to kiss you for years and when it happens, you bolt on me. Good thing I was smart enough to come and find you, huh?” Aziraphale leant forward again, lightly kissing Crowley’s blushing cheek.

Crowley was blushing ridiculously, unable to help the grin that was slowly spreading across his face. They stayed in an embrace leant against the pub wall while Crowley got his shit together and momentarily stopped stumbling like a drunk old man.

Aziraphale shivered as it began to get cold. “Hey, what do you say we go home? It’s getting late.”

Crowley nodded sleepily, the alcohol finally making him drowsy and cold. Aziraphale wrapped an arm around the very drunk demon’s waist and snapped his fingers, miracling them both and the Bentley back to the Soho bookshop.

Now back safely in the warm bookshop, Crowley and Aziraphale curled up on the sofa together. “Crowley, I am glad you told me how you really feel.” Aziraphale mumbled, running his fingers through his orange curls just like he had earlier that day and leaned over to lightly brush their lips together. “You going to run this time?”

Crowley made himself comfortable against Aziraphale’s chest and with a sleepy mumble said, “Only if you chase me.”


End file.
